Tables & Chairs
by David001
Summary: More Harm and Mac fluff. My shot at the Fic Recon September Fanfic challenge.


**Title: **Tables & Chairs

**Author: **David

**Rating: **T

**Summary:** My shot at fulfilling Pixie's September Fanfic challenge. Let the fluff commence.

**Category:** Shipper H/M

**Completed:** September 5, 2005

"So, did you fix it?"

"Fix what?"

"The coffee table we tripped over last night on the way to the bedroom."

"Mac," he drew out her name, "it's nothing more than toothpicks, now; I'm not a magician."

She had to laugh. "Oh, I don't know about that, Harm. You seemed pretty magical last night."

She stepped closer to her husband, running the palms of her hands up the hard planes of his chest, and across his shoulders, before hooking them behind his neck and pulling his head down to kiss her.

Their mouths dueled for supremacy; their tongues clashing and retreating as the give-and-take between them quickly escalated.

Harm hooked his thumbs through the belt-loops of Mac's jeans and yanked her towards him. She grunted with the impact, but their fused mouths never separated as she laced her fingers through his hair and forced him back towards the leather recliner near the sofa.

Harm willing went where he was directed. Taking his hand from her waist, he slid it underneath the back of her tee-shirt; stroking the soft skin of her lower back with the flat of his palm.

Mac pulled her mouth from his and gazed into his eyes. "Like I said, you're a magician."

He grinned back at her. "It's nice to know my talents are appreciated," he said, running his palm up her side under her shirt, just grazing her breast, before moving it around behind her to stroke the skin between her shoulder blades.

Mac groaned and laid her head against his shoulder; closing her eyes to revel in the bliss his touch instilled in her. "Do you have any idea what you do to me?" She asked, her voice little more than a thready whisper.

Harm trailed his hand down her back, then dipped his fingers into the waistband of her jeans. Mac gasped as his other hand left her waist and came to rest on her six; puller her even more tightly against him.

He traced the curve of her shoulder with his mouth; laying soft kisses up the column of her throat until his lips were inches from her ear. She could feel his breath against her skin as he kissed the soft spot just below her ear. "And just what is it I do to you?" He asked casually as he nibbled on her earlobe.

Mac was grateful for Harm's arms around her waist, because she was certain that at that moment her legs stopped working, and he was the only thing keeping her standing. "You don't play fair," she breathed against his neck. "You know that don't you?"

He pulled back to stare into her eyes. His usually blue-green eyes were nearly black with desire. "Who, me?" He said innocently. "I don't know what you're talking about."

He grinned at her then–that smile should be illegal–and liquid fire pooled in her belly. Her eyes glazed over in lust, and he snorted in laughter. "You still with me, baby?"

Her eyes locked with his. Mac smiled; two could play this game.

Hooking one of her legs behind his, she gave her husband a shove. The look of shock on his face as his unbalanced body shot backwards into the chair was almost payback enough for his teasing, but Mac should have known better; she had married a fighter jock after all, and he had fighter jock reflexes.

Harm's hand shot out as he fell, snatching Mac's wrist. Unprepared for his counterattack, she screeched as he pulled her down with him, landing against his chest. The recliner–not designed for this kind of play–sprang open as their combined weight plopped down on it. The momentum carried both of them over the side–knocking a lamp off the side-table with a crash.

They rolled to a stop beside the chair–Mac lying sprawled on top of Harm–staring into each other's eyes. Mac was instantly concerned that she might have hurt him, but as a slow smile spread across his face, and his arms tightened around her waist, those thoughts vanished. "Serves me right, I suppose," he said, kissing her chin. "I should have never messed with a Marine."

Mac giggled and quickly kissed him on the lips. "Make sure you remember that, Sailor, next time you think about teasing me like that."

Harm laughed, glancing over at the lamp lying shattered on the floor. "I hope you don't expect me to fix that, too?"

"What, there's something you can't fix?" She said with that tight-lipped grin she used when she was trying hard not to laugh.

Harm sat up quickly, which left Mac sitting across his thighs. He slipped his thumbs into the waist of her jeans and pulled her to him. "We were doing something else until you tried to hurt me," he teased.

The liquid fire was back. "I remember," she replied coyly, wrapping her arms around his neck. Then she leaned in and kissed him. Time seemed to stand still as their tongues fought like two boxers in the ring. Breathlessly, she broke the kiss. "Maybe we should try to take this to the bedroom?"

Harm stood, scooping Mac up to cradle her in his arms. "Promise to be good until we get there so we don't destroy anymore furniture on the way?"

"I promise," she said, kissing his chin quickly. "But you had better hurry; I don't know how long I can control myself."

Harm chuckled, stepping over the broken lamp. "Don't worry, baby, I won't dawdle." He stepped quickly across the room, shouldered open the bedroom door, tossed his giggling wife onto the bed, turned and kicked the door shut behind them. It was a long time before the lamp was cleaned up.


End file.
